


Finding Purgatory

by mollrach13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Purgatory, hurt!adam, protective!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 14:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollrach13/pseuds/mollrach13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Purgatory is one of the back doors out of the Cage. Dean encounters a familiar face fighting his way back to the surface</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Purgatory

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [adam_milligan_prompts_round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/adam_milligan_prompts_round1) collection. 



> For prompt: Purgatory is one of the back doors out of the Cage. Dean and Castiel encounter a familiar face fighting his way back to the surface
> 
> Huge thanks go to lady_astrild for hooking me up with an AO3 invite so I could join the party!

Dean’s eyes darted manically back and forth, seeing nothing but more and more of Purgatories darkening woods. He felt the breath of every creature he knew on the back of his neck. Purgatory was simultaneously silent and empty and teeming. And it was freaking Dean the fuck out.

“Cas!” he whispered harshly again into the darkness. “Cas, get you feathery ass back down here and zap us both outta-“

But Dean stopped. A small sound tingled at his senses. He slowed his breathing and stretched out his hearing and- there – again. A small sound, a rustling and a whimper, the sound of a distressed and wounded animal. 

Dean swallowed and mused. Or it was the sound of a werewolf playing dead before jumping to use Dean’s fresh body as a chew toy. Fantastic. 

Bravely (stupidly, foolishly, idiotically) he stepped forward, carefully placing his feet to make little sound amongst the dead foliage littering the floor. And the sound got louder, definitely a whimper. A small helpless sound, muffled against something, and coming from that small bush.

Belatedly realizing he should have some kind of weapon Dean picked up the most deadly looking stick he could find and held it menacingly above his head. He took a step forward, then another and then it screamed.

It triggered a flinch in Dean’s heart, the scream he recognized and had tried desperately to forget, the scream of one so tortured it knew little else but. The wail was cut short but the muffled whimpers and accompanying sobs still continued on. 

Steeling himself Dean poised, raised his stick, and pulled back the branch.

The scream this time was surprised, frightened as the boy - it was a human a male - tried to scramble back away from Dean, only to hit the unyielding bark of the tree behind him. 

“Hey” Dean soothed, lifting a surrendering hand. “Hey kid, it’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The wild eyes met Dean’s then skittered away, flicking to Dean’s still raised club. Dean dropped it like it was made of fire. Not the smartest move in hostile territory but this was the first soul Dean had found in this godforsaken wasteland and he wasn’t going to risk scaring it off. 

He crouched down, eyes on the same level as the kid who had ducked his head into his pulled up legs, trying to burying into his own body. Dean knew better than to reach out and touch uninvited so he crept closer, just to be a presence in the kids periphery. 

“I’m Dean.” He whispered, glancing around to make sure there was no shape shifters crawling up behind him. “New in town.”

The kid cowered away further, his hand clutching at his chest. 

“Hey, I know I haven’t had a shave in a few days but I can’t be that bad right.” He tried to joke, “Is it the morning breath? Cause I haven’t found many plumbing facilities nearby. Even Sam-“

“Sam?” The boys eyes darted up to Dean then, wide, beseeching, and a note of hope in their depths. “Sam.”

“Yeah.” Dean drawled, frowning. “He’s my brother, pretty sure he’s still topside. Who-“

But Dean stopped.

He would kick himself later but the first thing he recognized was clutched in the boys hand. The leather cord muddies and fraying and a peek of gold popping out of the boys tight fist.

The Amulet.

His amulet. The one that he had worn every day for years, the one he had selfishly thrown away. And he knew, he knew Sam would have picked it out of the trash and after Sam was gone he turned the Impala upside down looking for it and had got himself even more smashed when his search came out empty. 

His Amulet that had obviously taken the plunge with Sam into the cage and was now hung around the neck of-

“Adam?” he whispered disbelievingly. Adam blinked and frowned at Dean.

“Sam” he pleaded, taking a sniffling breath, like he knew who to say nothing else. “Sam.” 

Now Dean looked he recognized him, his sandy hair, his long face, dark eyes. Under the grime and blood and horror that covered him head to foot

“God, Adam.” Dean whispered. He couldn’t help the hand that reached out and laid against Adam’s shoulder. “Your… How did you get here kid?”

Adam didn’t answer, trying to worm his way away from Dean’s grip. But Dean had enough practice with terrified little brothers. “No Adam. Look at me.” Dean urged, dipping his head to try and catch Adams gaze again. “It’s Dean. Your brother. You remember me?”

“Brother.” Adam whispered on a rough voice. “Brother… Sam.”

“Yeah. Sam’s your brother too.” 

And then it was just too much. Adam had fallen into the abyss with Sam and Dean had managed to get him out. But there wasn’t much time that went by when Dean didn’t feel the ever present pang of guilt for leaving Adam behind, leaving him to a fate and destiny he never signed up for. And now he was here. His littlest brother. Dirty, a little damaged, but here.

Dean reached forward, ignoring Adam’s violent flinch and wrapped both arms around his shivering brother. Adam kept his arms to his chest but after a few minutes of Dean whispering soothingly into his ear he relaxed, his head coming to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean just held on tighter. 

“Sam.” Adam pleaded tiredly. “Want Sam.”

“Me too Buddy.” Dean replied. “Me too.”

*

Getting Adam vertical was a challenge, getting him moving was another. But they managed it. Adam propped under one of Dean’s arms, Dean’s trusty stick in his other, they slowly picked their way through the seemingly endless forest. 

Dean was just about to lose hope, at his wits end as to where he was walking to, Adam sagging tiredly against his side, whimpering ‘Sam’ in the most heartbreaking voice Dean had ever heard, not at all comforted by Dean’s assurance that they would find Sam, when there was a flutter and a twig snap behind them. Dean whirled, letting go of his tight grasp on Adam to swing his stick up high above his head.

“Cas!” Dean yelped, dropping his stick arm with a huff of relief and anger. “Where the hell did you go!”

Cas stood, bright against the backdrop of purgatory and titled his head to the side, his eyes following Adam’s scampering retreat to the nearest sheltered space beneath a fallen tree. “Is that…”

“Adam. Yes.” Dean snapped.

“How did he-“

“How did he get out?” Dean interrupted. “I have no idea seen as last I heard he was shacked up with Michael and Lucifer. Only thing I’ve managed to get out of him is ‘Sam’.”

“That was not what I was going to ask.” Cas replied in his matter-of-fact tone. “There is a back door to hell somewhere in Purgatory. I assume that the arrival of Death for Sam’s soul was enough of a distraction for Adam to escape. No, I was going to ask how he found you?”

“I found him actually.” Dean murmured sending a look towards Adam’s crouched form to make sure he was still there. Before swinging his gaze back to Cas and hardening it. “Where the hell did you go Cas! You can’t just poof off and leave me stranded in the middle of fricking Purgatory, I mean – What the hell man!”

“I needed to source a way to get you out. I needed supplies.”

“And you couldn’t have poofed me with you?”

“No, I needed supplies from back on the mortal plane. Humans aren’t really meant to cross the divides expect in death.”

“So what… how are we getting round that,” Dean replied, belatedly sending a worried glance to Cas. “You have got a plan, right?” 

“Of course Dean. I devised a way to allow human souls to cross back from purgatory with minimal side effects. Perhaps the most efficient example would be osmosis, or digestive membranes.”

“Dude, I skipped third period biology to make out with the cheerleaders under the bleachers. Can you just skip ahead to how it actually gets us out of this freak show.”

“Well…” Cas’s gaze drifted off to the side were Adam had curled beside a large truck. “It will be more difficult now, with more passengers.”

“Nuhuh.” Dean huffed. “No way. He’s coming extra baggage charge or not, I’m not leaving him here.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that Dean. I was merely stating that it will take longer to prepare, that is all.”

“Well make it quick.” Dean muttered, shivering. “This place is fucking creepy, I can feel it rubbing against my skin. Need a shower, pronto.”

*

Dean squashed himself as far as he could to Adam’s hiding place, after a while Adam had crept forward, his hand twisted in the bottom of Dean’s shirt and let his head fall asleep on Dean’s lap. Dean allowed a little smile to cross his face at the show of trust and placed a gentle hand on the boy’s dirty hair. 

Cas was still tinkering with what looked like a pile of twigs and herbs in the small ditch he had cleared, muttering to himself at seemingly random intervals.

“He doesn’t remember me.” Dean spoke out into the night. He wasn’t really directing it at anyone in particular but Cas glanced up from his ministrations.

“He has been in the pit for perhaps three or four centuries, time is confusing down there so we cannot know. He is likely to have forgotten a lot of things.”

“He remembers Sam.” Dean replied, wincing at his slightly petulant tone.

Cas shot him a look that told him he was being childish but Dean raised his chin in defiance. He had already said it, might as well stand by it.

“He and Sam spent a large proportion of his time in the pit down there together. I imagine it is somewhat strengthening to go through that together. And do you imagine that Sam just left Adam to whither under Michael’s company or do you imagine he tried to protect his little brother, as you taught him.”

Dean looked down at Adam’s sleeping form and thought of Sam, the strong fierce Sam he knew. And yeah, Sam would have protected his little brother. Would have protected him with his dying breath then woken up screaming and done it all again. 

Uncontainable anger and rage filled Dean’s chest as he thought of his little brother, both of them, fighting a failing for their lives with the biggest monsters of all time. Fighting and dying helplessly together for centuries whilst he played house, had barbeques and slept curled in a King size bed beside a gorgeous women every night. 

The need to see Sam then, to have both his brothers tight in each arm was so strong. He fisted a hand in Adam’s top. “Hurry up Cas.” He grit. “I – We need to get to Sam.”

*

There was white light, blinding and searing into his retinas and then the light dimmed. Dean opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was the Impala, shining and glinting against the mid-day sun. The street they had dropped into wasn’t crowded and could be any main street in middle America, cafes and stores lining each side walk. 

But Dean’s eyes lifted from his car and scanned shops, looking for that tall bobbing head of shaggy hair, the exasperated eye roll, the cheeky grin, the-

“Dean?”

Dean spun, awkwardly with Adam still clung to his back. There was Sam, alive and shocked and oh so magnificently tall before him, the door of the shop he had exited jingling shut behind him. The shock and disbelief wiped from his face as Sam grinned, dimples coming out in force on his cheeks.

“Dean!”

Dean was then gathered up in an all-encompassing Sam-hug. His little brothers not-so-little arms dropping whatever bags were in his hands and wrapping them around Deans shoulders, clinging to the back of Dean’s jacket like he would never let go. 

Dean would berate him later for not doing any checks but for now he just clung back, feeling Sam alive and well beneath his hands. 

After a while Sam pulled back still grinning, his eyes suspiciously bright. “You’re here! Where did you-“

Then Adam let out a little whimper, clinging tighter to the back of Dean’s jacket. Sam’s hunter eyes tracked the foreign body, his face lighting in hope and mouth opening in shock.

“Adam?” he whispered. “Dean ist that… Adam?”

Dean just nodded and gripped an arm around Adam’s shoulders, moving his face from where it was trying to burrow into his back. Sam reached out a hand but shrunk back, as if unsure whether his touch would be accepted. Dean gave Sam a nod in encouragement and just as Sam was about to grab, grip or drag his little brother into his arms Adam looked up. 

“Sam?” he whispered, disbelief and relief drenching his tone. “Sam!”

And then he was gone from Dean’s grasp and his face was buried into Sam’s broad chest, broken sobs muffling into Sam’s shirt. Sam just gripped on, making the same soothing tones Dean had used down in Purgatory, gripping his huge, safe arms around Adam’s shoulders now.

Dean just watched them for a moment, ignorant and not caring for the spectators hovering around their family reunion. It was long overdue and he wasn’t about to cut it short at all. Then Sam looked at him from over their brothers sobbing head, disbelief and grief in his eyes. And Dean was never one to leave Sammy suffering alone.   
He stepped forward, placing a soothing hand to the back of Adam’s head, and then one gripped reassuringly to Sam’s shoulders. 

He just got them both back, he wasn’t likely to let go anytime soon.

*

One night, many, many, months down the line, Adam and Dean sat on the porch of Bobby’s old house, rebuilt again. A home again, with Wifi for Sammy. Dean sucked on a beer and looked at the dark night sky just breathing in and feeling… calm. 

“This was yours.” Adam spoke into the quiet. Dean looked over to his little brother. So strong, both of them were, and Dean had watched them recover and come together, all of them, these past months. Dean looked down to where Adam was fingering at the golden pendant still hanging around his neck, leather still worn and fraying. 

“Yeah. It was.”

“Sam gave it to me.” Adam swallowed. “Down there. He said it would protect me.”

“Maybe it did.” Dean mused. “You’re here aren’t you?”

“Yeah…” Adam sighed. “Maybe.” He tugged then, pulling the pendant off his neck.

“No.” Dean spoke, laying a gentle hand against the amulet, pressing it back against Adam’s chest. “No. Sam gave it to me. And now he has given it to you. It’s yours now. Look after you hear. Sammy doesn’t give that out lightly.”

Adam looked down at the amulet and then back at Dean. He didn’t say anything but he nodded and Dean could see the fierce conviction shining in his eyes. Dean gave him a smile and a nod and settled back into his chair.

Sam stumbled out to the porch a short time later, nose shoved into a dusty book as was normal these days. He blindly dodged Adam’s arm and Dean’s kick and lowered himself into the porch swing beside Adam. 

Sam sent Dean a triumphant grin as he settled down. 

“Bitch.” He mumbled, seeing Adam’s agreeing smile.

“Jerk.” Sam replied to both of them.

Eventually Adam dozed off, head slipping against Sam’s shoulder and Sam succumb to sleep too, head falling atop Adam’s, letting out a snuffling snore every few breaths. Dean smiled down at them both and covered them with a blanket. 

And he thought that maybe, finally, in Bobby’s old house, surrounded by his still rotting cars, both his brothers curled asleep and safe, he may have found ‘Home’.


End file.
